


Reason the Card

by trialanderror12



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Courtship, Humor, M/M, Odin maybe not so much, Sif is awesome, i dunno guys it's 3am what tags should I use you tell me, Álfheimr | Alfheim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3344363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trialanderror12/pseuds/trialanderror12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odin arranges a political marriage for Thor, for the good of Asgard. Loki, unwilling to see his brother trapped in a loveless marriage, coaches Sif to become Thor's perfect partner—hoping Thor will fall for her and call off the wedding. Will Loki's plan succeed, or will he end up with far more than he bargained for? Loki/Thor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "On life's vast ocean diversely we sail,  
> Reason the card, but passion is the gale."
> 
> -Alexander Pope

They were about halfway through a quiet family dinner when Odin suddenly spoke up. “I received word from the king of Alfheim today,” he said out of the blue, drawing his wife and sons’ attention. “They have accepted my proposal to eliminate trade restrictions by joining our realms in marriage. They are sending their youngest daughter, Princess Ilyn, to wed Thor as soon as we can make arrangements.”

At first there was silence. Loki felt lightheaded, and shortly after reminded himself to _breathe_. He had just managed to pull in one shaky breath when Frigga gathered her senses and rounded on Odin.

“Absolutely not,” she said flatly. Her stare was like ice. “You are still King; there is no reason for Thor to wed as yet. And I will have _both_ my sons marry for love, not state.”

Loki had to fight back borderline-hysterical laughter at that. Oh, if she only knew.

Odin remained unphased. “Our trade with Alfheim has suffered greatly of late. Political disputes are rendering our people without many of the items they have become accustomed to. You may not notice here,” Odin told his sons, gesturing to the richly-piled meats, cheeses, and delicacies their table bore, “but among those not so fortunate as to be born with royal blood, many are facing difficulty in these times.” He turned back to Frigga, but kept watch on Thor from the corner of his eye. “A union between the two realms would solve these problems. Thor’s marriage to the princess of Alfheim will return Asgard to prosperity.”

Loki’s mind was racing. Surely there had to be another way. They had to look out for the citizens of Asgard, of course they did. But they couldn’t force Thor into a marriage of convenience to do so. There had to be a diplomatic solution. Alfheim had been working tirelessly to gain easier access to the Bifrost for decades, hadn’t they? Maybe they would lessen trade restrictions in return for a little Asgardian technology. Asgard didn’t trade in science, as a rule, but such a burden upon their people certainly warranted an exception. And anything was better than shackling Thor to a woman he’d never met. _Especially not before I tell him how I feel._ The thought came unbidden, and Loki quickly tucked it back away where it belonged.

“Then we will find another way!” Frigga insisted, and that was good because Loki wasn’t sure he could form coherent sentences yet. “Loki is a skilled diplomat. I will accompany him to Alfheim—”

“I have made my decision,” Odin said icily, and Loki knew then that something more was going on. Something Odin wasn’t telling them. He’d overheard his parents arguing often enough over the years (usually over the latest mess he and Thor had gotten themselves into), but Odin had _never_ spoken to Frigga that way.

Frigga opened her mouth to retort, but Thor spoke first.

“Mother, please,” he said gently, and there was a softness in his eyes that Loki didn’t think fit the circumstances. “It’s all right,” he continued, leaning back in his chair a bit to catch the eye of both their parents. “I’m perfectly willing to do as Father says.” Loki made a cut-off, choked sound that he sincerely hoped no one heard. Thor kept talking, and no one looked at Loki, so chances were good it had gone unnoticed. “The good of the people is our highest calling. If we don’t look after their interests, who will? It is my duty to protect the citizens of Asgard. And I am happy to do it.”

Loki’s grip on his fork was so tight his hand was shaking. Little drops of blood slid down the handle where it had cut into his finger. _This cannot be happening. Who in the nine are you, and what have you done with Thor?_ His stubborn, abrasive, slightly self-centered brother would never agree to have such a vital choice taken away from him. And with no argument at all, not even a token attempt to assert his own preference? Loki wasn’t foolish enough to think Thor had _him_ in mind, but surely there was someone of his acquaintance who would make for a suitable mate. Wouldn’t Thor rather be paired with someone he knew than a complete stranger?

Odin was nodding, pleased, but Frigga wasn’t anywhere near finished. “Thor, marriage is not an _arrangement_. It is a lifelong commitment to another person. To love and cherish them, all the rest of your days. To stand by their side always, whatever may come; to share their grief and their joy… To _listen_ to what they have to say, even if you disagree.” She cast a pointed glance in Odin’s direction at that, but he wasn’t paying attention. All his focus was on Thor. _Not that there’s anything new about that_ , Loki thought bitterly. But this wasn’t really the time to dwell on that particular wound. “Marriage is a sacred covenant, and you should enter into it with someone you know you will love for the rest of your life. Your marriage is _yours_ , Thor, and I would not have you waste it on someone who will not give you the love you deserve.”

 _I will love you for the rest of my life,_ thought Loki, still unable to take his eyes off Thor. _I will remain ever by your side, counsel and defend you, protect you from all that comes, even from yourself. I will do all of those things, even if you never come to love me as I do you. And if you do…_ Loki swallowed thickly. _If you do, I will give you everything I am, the good and the bad, to do with as you will until I draw my last breath. I will always, forever, be yours._ Loki took a small, shuddering breath and closed his eyes. _Please, please don’t do this. Give me a chance. Let me love you. Look as hard as you like; I swear you will never find another who will love you so much or so well as I._

If only he’d had the courage to say it aloud before. Now it might be too late.

“Mother…” Oh, right. People were still talking. Loki forced himself to release his death grip on the fork and open his eyes. Thor was looking down at his half-empty plate, almost embarrassed, not that Loki had the slightest idea why. The room was quite for several long moments before Thor met Frigga’s eyes again. “I know that love of which you speak. I have felt it.” The lightheadedness was back with a vengeance, and Loki’s heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. His mouth was uncomfortably dry—not that he could begin to fathom what he’d say if it weren’t. 

“That’s wonderful, darling,” Frigga said kindly, sending Odin a triumphant look, but Thor shook his head.

“No, I… Well, yes. I suppose it is a blessing to know this love. I wouldn’t trade it.” Thor smiled sadly. “But as much as it is a blessing, it is a curse as well. I’m afraid that the one I love is beyond my reach. We can never be together. As much as I would wish otherwise…” Thor’s eyes went unfocussed for a moment, but he quickly came back to himself. “But it isn’t possible. No amount of wishing will change that. And so… If I have no hope of a marriage that will make me truly happy, should I not jump at the chance to turn that personal loss into Asgard’s gain?” Thor paused, but those gathered around the table kept silent; it was clear he wasn’t finished. 

“Sometimes I struggle to reconcile my decisions with the various weights upon me. I am pulled one way by my wants and needs; physical and emotional desires common to all mankind. And then elsewhere by Father’s teachings, in attempting to make choices that embody a king.” He looked to Frigga. “And then yet another by trying to make you proud, to be the only thing you have ever asked of Loki or I: to be a good man.” Frigga’s gaze softened slightly, and Thor gave her the barest hint of a smile. “In this, I have no such doubts. This is the calling of a king and the choice of a good man, and I want nothing more than to protect the interests of Asgard.”

 _But what of_ you _?_ Loki screamed inside. _So many love you dearly. You needn’t choose me. But you_ mustn’t _hand yourself over to a stranger who bears you no love. You are worth so much more than that. I could give you so much more._

Odin was nodding curtly, clearly thinking the matter concluded. Loki didn’t think it could be farther from it, but clearly his traitorous mouth wasn’t in the mood to speak. He felt a little faint.

Frigga studied Thor carefully for a moment, and then let out a long, disappointed sigh. “All right, then,” she said, resigned. “I won’t stand against this. But under one condition,” she added firmly, looking back at Odin. “If Thor _does_ find a way to make things work with his true love before the wedding, I insist it be cancelled and Thor allowed a chance at true happiness.”

Odin frowned and turned to Thor, his gaze searching. “You’re sure this suitor won’t come after for you?” he asked, drumming his fingers on the table in thought.

Thor shook his head ruefully. “I am quite certain, Father. They… do not return my affections.” His face drooped a little sadly at that, but Odin seemed satisfied. He leaned back in his chair, clearly glad to have come to a conclusion (that didn’t involve being the target of his wife’s anger).

“Very well,” he agreed, grabbing his staff from its resting place beside the table. “Arrangements with Alfheim will be made.”

He brought the staff down against the floor with a _clang_ , and they all felt the small ripple of magic make its way through the room.

“Should Thor win his true love’s affections before he is wed, the engagement shall be void and he will be free to wed as he chooses. The wedding will take place in 30 days.” The soft humming from the staff subsided, and Odin set it down again.

Yes. Yes, Loki could work with that. Thirty days. He could help Thor fall in love with someone worthy by then. He felt dizzy with relief; everything was going a little swimmy.

“Loki, you’re bleeding!” Loki looked down at his hand in surprise; the fork had dug much deeper into his hand that he’d realized. Copious amounts of blood were pouring over his lap and the tablecloth, and he noticed with some degree of surprise that the deep gash in his palm was causing him quite a bit of pain. He felt suddenly dizzy. He heard shouts of alarm as the world started spinning, and the last thing he knew before he closed his eyes was that Thor’s arms had broken his fall, Thor’s worried face was filling his vision, and he reached up blindly to try to wipe the fear from his eyes but only succeeded in smearing blood on his cheek. The world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Sif doesn't come in until the next chapter, but let me just say this up front: I only tagged this as Loki/Thor for a reason. What happens between Thor and Sif is not enough to merit a "relationship" tag; if it really went anywhere, this wouldn't be Loki/Thor. Sif is also an awesome character and I like her, and nothing in this story will portray her otherwise. All three of them will be perfectly happy in the end, I promise!


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Loki noticed when he woke was Thor.

He was siting in a rather uncomfortable-looking chair at Loki’s bedside, chin to his chest and letting out the occasional soft snore. Loki rubbed his eyes and gathered his wits enough to realize he was in his own bed, which meant he couldn’t be in too much danger. He wasn’t sure how to reconcile being well enough to leave the healing chambers with Thor’s overnight vigil.

He turned his hand over to examine his palm; not a single mark. The healers had done an excellent job, not that he’d expected any less. That done, Loki had suddenly run out of things to do. So he turned his head to the left and stared up at Thor, who looked so damn peaceful while he was sleeping that Loki wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss him or strangle him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept peacefully. There were pros and cons to being constantly on guard, even while trying to rest.

Just as Loki was deciding that even Thor-watching grew old after a while and had begun to form a plan to sneak out of bed without knocking into the too-close chair and waking him up, Thor began to stir. He sat up straight and yawned silently, then opened his eyes. Loki saw first shock, and then relief.

“Loki,” Thor said breathlessly, and if he reached out instinctively to grab Loki’s hand, well, Loki wasn’t complaining. “Are you all right? Do you feel dizzy? Any pain?”

Normally Loki would tease him right now; make a sarcastic remark or enact an obvious (or maybe not-so) show of having a _mortal injury_. But Thor looked altogether too earnest, and to be honest Loki wasn’t really at his best at the moment. It wasn’t because of his hand—he felt pretty well recovered from that. But everything that had happened at dinner was starting to come back to him, and that was pretty overwhelming, to say the least.

“I’m fine,” he reassured Thor, taking a chance and squeezing his hand. When Thor chose to squeeze back instead of letting go, Loki let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Just still a little tired.”

Thor finally relaxed. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared,” he admitted quietly, apparently finding something terribly interesting about the hem of Loki’s sheets. “You were—there was so much blood,” he continued, and Loki held on tighter when his voice broke. “I carried you down to the healing chambers as fast as I could, but you just kept bleeding, you were so pale—”

“Come now, that’s not so different from the everyday, is it?” Loki tried with a half-smile, hoping some humor would pull Thor away from the memory.

Thor let out a hoarse laugh. “I do try to get you out in the sun,” he said mulishly, but he was smiling a little too now so Loki counted it as a win.

He held out his free hand for inspection, showing Thor the seamlessly reknitted skin. “Not even a scar,” he said, then: “Not that this is a war story I’m particularly interested in telling,” and they both laughed. 

Loki sat up in bed and turned to face Thor a bit, their joined hands falling to rest comfortably on his knee. “Seeing as my hand seems perfectly fine… Were the healers worried about something else? The blood loss perhaps? I imagine it must be something serious if they asked you to keep an eye on me all night.”

Thor flushed a bit and looked away, absently pulling his hand from Loki’s to lace his own fingers together nervously as he thought. The loss burned, and it took every ounce of Loki’s willpower not to snatch it back. 

“I just… I wanted to be here when you woke. In case you needed anything.”

And Loki had suspected that, but hearing Thor admit it _did_ things to his heart that he really couldn’t afford to dwell on right now.

“Well,” he said, gesturing expansively at the room and his own person, “as you can see, I am awake now. And I can assure you I am just fine.”

Thor nodded, just a hint of red remaining on his cheeks. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you to rest, then,” he said awkwardly, getting to his feet and wobbling a little as he did, stifling a yawn with his hand. Loki rolled his eyes and turned back the covers. Thor hesitated only a moment before slipping in beside him, and they curled up together, Loki safe and warm in the cocoon of Thor’s arms, exactly as they had done so often as children. Thor was asleep almost immediately, but Loki lay awake for some time. He wanted to memorize every detail, so he would never forget how Thor looked or smelled or felt in his embrace. Who knew when (if) he’d have the chance again? 

But eventually Loki’s eyes grew tired, and he laid his head against Thor’s chest and allowed the illusion to comfort him. Tomorrow he’d have to start searching for an appropriate partner for Thor to make his queen. For now, though, he could have this. He was lulled to sleep by the rhythmic beat of Thor’s heart. And for the rest of that night, he slept peacefully.

—————

Loki’s first order of business was find a suitable target. 

With an entire kingdom to choose from you’d think that would be pretty easy, but of course nothing in Loki’s life was ever that simple. The lucky lady would have to be genuine enough to impress Mother, and high-born enough for Father to even consider the switch. And then there was everything she would have to be to be worthy of Thor. Well… Loki actually wasn’t sure there was anyone out there who was good enough to deserve Thor. But he was determined to find whoever came closest.

Thor would need a wife who wasn’t afraid to spend time outside in nature, so there went about half of the shut-in courtiers’ daughters that would probably top Odin’s list. She had to be smart, and kind, and beautiful. (There went half the list again.) That still left a fair number of eligible young ladies, though, so how to narrow it down…

Loki snatched a tart from the kitchens on his way outside and chewed slowly as he thought. Thor would also need a good mother for his children. God knows how the two of them would have turned out without Frigga. But who could be all those things? Nurturing enough to give his nieces and nephews a mother like Frigga, but bold and adventurous enough to challenge a partner like Thor? 

Loki was still pondering, crossing the training grounds on his way to a glade where he did some of his best thinking, when a burst of hearty feminine laughter caught his attention. He turned to see Sif bent over double in front of Fandral, whose hat had been cleanly shot off his head.

“It’s not funny!” Fandral snapped, and Loki grinned for several reasons. First: it kind of was. Second: He really, really didn’t like Fandral. Last but not nearly least: Sif was _exactly_ who he was looking for for Thor. 

Why hadn’t he thought of it before? She was a skilled warrior, and all the battles the six of them had fought together had engendered closeness and trust. He still didn’t care for Fandral and thought Volstagg a bit of a brute, but he’d fight to the death for any one of them any day, and he knew they would all do the same. Most importantly, _Thor_ knew it. What more could he want in a wife? Sif was beautiful, courageous in battle, someone Thor could trust with his life… And someone Loki could trust with his secret. This was even better than he’d hoped; not only had he found someone who could make Thor happy, he’d found someone who could keep him _safe_ when Loki wasn’t around to help protect him. He hadn’t realized how much that had been weighing on him until he’d found a solution.

“Sif!” he called out, and she turned around and caught his eye and grinned. She gave him a little wave _hello_ and he waved her over, and she turned her head to give Fandral one last parting remark—a doozy, if the almost constipated look on his face was anything to go by—and jogged over to where he was standing.

“Hey Loki!” she was still smiling brightly. “You want to spar?”

“Not today,” he demurred, but he let the corner of his mouth tick up the tiniest bit to show he appreciated the offer. “Fandral in one of his moods?” he asked, hoping for a little dirt to use against him (in a totally friendly, not-cruel kind of way. Definitely). 

Sif just rolled her eyes. “He’s been in a snit all week. Something about his latest “romance” going wrong. I’m just ignoring it until it goes away.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard; he’ll have another lover in two, three days tops. Then all this lovelorn foolishness will be forgotten.”

“And then he’ll start complaining about her, too!” Sif started laughing again, and Loki actually managed a small smile. Come to think of it, Fandral’s flavor-of-the-week love life was probably a very large part of why Loki disliked him so much. He couldn’t understand treating love so casually.

“So what brings you out here today, then, if you’re not up to sparring?” Sif asked, and Loki brought himself back to the topic at hand.

“I was looking for you, actually,” he told her, and that wasn’t technically a lie—he’d been in search of a partner for Thor, and she just so happened to be the perfect person for the job. “Take a walk with me?”

Sif nodded, clearly curious, and he lead the way to the glade he’d been heading for in the first place. They settled side-by-side on a large log on the outskirts of the clearing, and for a few minutes they just sat in companionable silence. But Sif could tell there was something on his mind, and she bumped their shoulders together playfully. “Come on, what did you want to talk about?” she asked, and Loki sighed.

“Father’s forcing Thor into an arranged marriage,” he said simply. Sif looked at least as shocked as he’d felt—thankfully she, at least, didn’t have any cutlery at hand.

“But why?” She sounded more sad than angry, and Loki scooted a little closer so that they were almost touching. Of the rag-tag bunch they’d put together, Sif really was his favorite. He wouldn’t even consider trying to comfort her if the others had been around, but when it was just the two of them it was harmless enough. Sif had done a lot of things he was grateful for, and at first it had bothered him; the struggle to keep them “even”. He’d eventually learned that she didn’t keep score, and that she appreciated it when he acted like a decent human being. So he was as much himself as he felt safe to be around her, which was a hell of a lot more than he could say about most people. Frigga and Thor had more of his confidence than Sif did. He was certain Odin had less. As for the others… There was a very big difference between trusting someone with your life and trusting them with who you were. He’d gladly place his life in their hands, but never his heart.

Sif was looking at him expectantly, and he realized he’d been lost in his own thoughts a few moments too long. “Sorry,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “A lot going on.”

She laughed. “No kidding! I can’t believe Thor has to get married. Why does it have to be now? He won’t be King for centuries yet.”

Loki sighed and rested his head in his hands, wishing he knew the answer to that. “Something about trade arrangements with Alfheim,” he told her, unwilling to share his private suspicion that Odin had other motivations just yet. “Mother and I think we could find a diplomatic solution, but Father insists that intermarriage between the two royal families is the only solution.”

That earned him an incredulous snort. “Right, and the next time the economy takes a nose dive they marry _you_ off? What about the time after that? Are they hoping Thor’ll have kids by then that they can betroth?”

Loki agreed—it didn’t make sense—but debating that wasn’t going to get them anywhere. “Not they,” he corrected her, shifting a bit to face her. “Mother is dead-set against it, Father’s just stubborn as a mule. She did insist on a provision, though—Thor can choose someone else before the wedding, if he’s in love. Then the Alfheim wedding is off, and he marries the woman of his choice instead.”

“Oh!” Sif brightened. “So he still has to get married, but at least it can be someone he knows?”

“Exactly,” Loki returned, pleased she’d caught on so quickly. Another reason he liked her; she was quite intelligent. “But the wedding is in thirty days and Thor’s resigned himself to a marriage of convenience, so we have to act quickly if we want to help him. We don’t have much time.”

“Help him how?” Sif asked, confused. “Doesn’t he have to decide how he feels himself?”

Loki grinned outright this time, his teeth glinting white in the bright morning sun. “Oh, he does,” Loki agreed, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. “But we’re going to get him to fall in love with you.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I still think this is a terrible idea,” Sif said morosely, frowning dubiously at the lavender-and-gold courting gown she was wearing.

“Spin,” Loki insisted, gesturing emphatically, and Sif sighed and obediently spun. Loki hummed and waved his hand a bit, teasing out one of the strands of gold embroidery and restitching it a bit to the left. “There,” he said, satisfied. “Perfect.”

“Are you kidding me? This is ridiculous,” Sif huffed. “I look like a giant purple bird.” She did, a bit. But saying so was hardly conducive to Loki’s plans.

“Nonsense, you’ve got it easy,” he told her instead. “If it were me I’d be wearing a kilt. In fact, it _will_ be me, someday. Thor’s rather lucky to have skipped this part, at least. Can you imagine me in a kilt?” Loki shuddered. “And lavender does _not_ suit my complexion.”

“Well excuse me for sleeping through Royal Courting Rituals 101,” Sif snapped. “Oh, that’s right. _I never thought I’d need to know any of this._ And I still think this is the worst idea you’ve ever had. Which is saying something.”

“Oh, how very kind of you,” Loki said haughtily. “And after I just spent the better part of two hours transforming you into the loveliest giant purple bird in all of Asgard.”

Sif sighed. “Loki, I’m serious. This just feels… wrong. Thor’s one of my best friends, and we’re tricking him into falling in love with me? Why can’t we just tell him?” she asked earnestly, and Loki had to fight very hard not to sigh aloud. “We tell him your idea and let him make his own decision. If he wants to marry me, he can. If he’d rather choose Princess Ilyn…”

Loki did let out a weary sigh at that, and he conjured two small stools for them to sit on. “We’ve been over this,” he said, as little frustration as he could manage leaking out into his tone. “Thor deserves a worthy partner, and Asgard will need a strong queen. You are more than capable of filling both roles. You _are_ ,” he insisted when she opened her mouth to interrupt. “I wouldn’t have breathed a word of this to you if I weren’t quite sure of that, and you know very well what Thor and Asgard mean to me.”

Loki didn’t much care for the too-knowing glint in her eyes as she nodded at that, but he brushed it aside and moved on. “We aren’t tricking Thor into anything. You’re going to straightforwardly announce your intent to compete for his hand, and then you’ll show him that you’re someone he could enjoy spending the rest of his life with. I’ll help you with that part, because I know him best. And that’s _not cheating_ ,” he emphasized, fixing her with a small glare as she made to interrupt again, “because I’ll teach you how to make him happy and then you’ll be able to do it yourself afterward, so you will in fact be everything you purported yourself to be.”

Sif sighed resignedly and hid her head in her hands. “Oh, stop that!” Loki leapt up from the stool and batted her hands away, frowning as he tilted her chin up with one finger and surveyed the damage. “ _Honestly_ ,” he exclaimed, exasperated. “Do you have any idea what delicate work it is to apply this properly? Now I have to start all over, and— _no_! You have lipstick on your fingers, don’t you dare touch that gown!” Loki caught both her wrists in his hands and closed his eyes, counting backwards from twenty and trying very hard not to grind his teeth. 

He got to seven before Sif spoke. “Are you going to be like this all month? Because if you are I’d rather start off with the finale and get this over with sooner rather than later.”

Loki bit his tongue so hard it bled. “If I don’t have a heart attack from the stress first,” he ground out at last, and then set about cleaning Sif’s hands and fixing her makeup. She seemed to realize how much this was affecting him, because she stopped teasing him after that. Loki wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. If just the courting ceremony took this much effort to set up, how was he going to make it through the entire process?

 _This is for Thor_ , he reminded himself as he corrected a particularly tricky swirl in the indigo runes painted onto Sif’s cheeks. _You can do anything for Thor._

 _Anything?_ another part of his mind echoed, uncertain. Loki didn’t deign to answer it.

—————

The courting ritual itself was a lot less pomp and circumstance than you’d expect, given the elaborate preparations. Sif walked purposefully into the dining hall that day at dinner and knelt before Thor’s place at the head table. Loki was seated casually next to Thor, and he gave Sif an almost imperceptible nod when her eyes darted briefly over to him. He knew she was shaking with nerves on the inside, but she was doing an excellent job of affecting calm. His heart warmed a bit with pride in his friend. He’d chosen well.

“Your Majesty,” she began, ducking her head, and the entire dining hall fell silent. “Thor Odin-son, Crown Prince and Heir Apparent to the throne of Asgard. I renew my solemn vow of loyalty to you and yours and this realm, and humbly submit to you my intent to formally court your hand in marriage.” Sif raised her eyes—a bold move, and one Loki had not coached her into making—and held Thor’s gaze steadily as she finished reciting. “Do you accept?”

“I do,” Thor said after only a moment’s pause, his voice booming across the hall with certainty and just a hint of surprise that Loki didn’t imagine many could detect. Sif smiled at Thor genuinely and departed with a nod and a bow, as was customary. On Thor’s other side Odin was fuming, and Thor himself still seemed a bit shell-shocked.

“What nonsense is this?” Odin demanded, turning to Frigga as the doors closed behind Sif and the hall erupted in gossipy whispers. “Not even a day has passed, and already you scheme to muddle our son’s head with other suitors?”

Frigga’s glare could have turned the sun to ice. “I have done no such thing,” she said crisply, “and I would have you consider your words carefully before you choose to speak to me again.” With that she stood primly and turned her back on the table, exiting the room without another word.

“I could hardly tell her no, Father,” Thor said a moment later, and oh, how lovely, Odin had found another target for his misplaced rage. Ironic that it wasn’t turned on Loki for once, when this time it actually was his fault. “It won’t affect the wedding plans,” Thor assured him. “I am not going to fall in love with her.”

“I’m hardly worried about _that_ ,” Odin muttered angrily under his breath, and Loki filed that away along with all the other things he’d been saying lately that just didn’t add up. He felt an increasing sense of unease over whatever it was the Allfather was hiding, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it now. He finished the rest of his meal quickly, surprising Thor when he declined his offer of a second helping of toffee cake.

“But it’s your favorite,” Thor protested, wide-eyed and far too emotionally invested in a matter so trivial as cake, and Loki couldn’t help but smile at him indulgently.

“And I always take more than my fair share, which is all the more reason you should have the chance to enjoy it for once. And you’ve just begun a courtship! That’s something worth celebrating.” Loki stood and turned to leave, already planning his and Sif’s next move, when a sudden thought made him pause and face Thor. 

“My blessings on your courtship,” he began, the old-fashioned invocation falling smoothly from his lips. “May it serve as a solid foundation for your marriage, and bring you joy, peace, and contentment.” He bent down to complete the gesture, pressing a soft kiss first to Thor’s forehead, then each of his cheeks. “May you be blessed with every happiness,” he breathed into Thor’s ear, and if he hadn’t known any better Loki would have said Thor shivered in response.

Odin was glaring daggers at him as he left the hall, but that could be attributed to any number of things. Loki chose not to think about it, or how soft Thor’s skin had felt against his lips, as he made his way back to the glade where Sif would be waiting for him.

—————

Sif was glaring at him when he entered the clearing, her arms crossed and one foot tapping impatiently against the soft ground. “Dress. Off. Now,” she demanded, and _oh_ , maybe that little spell preventing her from removing the gown herself hadn’t been the best idea. But she had put up such an awful fuss, hemming and hawing and going back and forth on _whether this was a good idea or not_ , and Loki’d thought it better to be safe than sorry. 

A decision that seemed to be backfiring on him now, if the murderous glare Sif was sending his way was anything to go by. Well, she wasn’t going to be of much use to the plan whilst radiating this much anger. Perhaps…

Loki waved a hand and Sif squawked as she was enveloped in a light pink cloud of smoke, which quickly dissipated to reveal that she was indeed no longer wearing the ostentatious gown—for it had been transformed into an equally color-blind kilt.

Contrary to his intent, Sif did not appear amused. “What?” Loki asked innocently, giving her a small shrug. “You asked me to remove the dress. If you wanted something else, you should have been more specific.”

“I will end you,” Sif said through gritted teeth, hands clenched into fists and voice frighteningly monotone. “I will kill you slowly and tear you into a thousand pieces and they will never find the body.”

Right. Wrong again. “Oh, very well…” Loki sighed, easing himself down onto his usual log and restoring Sif’s original clothing with hardly a thought. She didn’t thank him but she wasn’t glaring at him anymore either, and after a little while she came over and took a seat next to him.

She leaned a friendly head on his shoulder—an olive branch—and Loki sighed. He couldn’t quite bring himself to apologize, but he rested his head against hers and offered an explanation. “I think Father might have more than one agenda in pushing Thor to this marriage,” he began. “It’s nothing concrete, just… A bunch of little things that don’t make sense. Too much so to be coincidental.” He sighed. “And I can’t spend time thinking about it because I’m worried about Thor and for all I like to pretend I know exactly what I’m doing… I’m making this up as I go along, and I’m afraid we won’t succeed and Thor will be trapped in a loveless marriage he can never escape for motives I can’t even begin to comprehend.” He said the last a bit too quickly, the words coming out jumbled, torn between keeping the thoughts in and hurrying to get them out. 

Sif didn’t seem to mind, though; she sat up and tugged at his sleeve until he looked at her, eyes shadowed with the weight of the responsibility he’d placed on his own shoulders. “We’ll figure it out together,” she said firmly, and Loki envied her confidence. “We’ll stick to the plan, and Thor will get to decide what makes him happiest. It’ll all work out.”

Loki wasn’t sure he believed that, but he sighed softly and decided to pretend he did, at least for a little while. This time he leaned against her, and she put a comforting arm around his waist to hold him to her side. It wasn’t the same as when Thor held him—not even close. But it reminded him of those times enough that he could finally relax a bit and let some of the stress go. Sometimes he wished Sif had been born his sibling instead of Thor. Then he’d have an excuse for being so close to her, and no one would bat an eye if Thor took him as a lover.

“You’re thinking too much,” Sif said gently, and Loki closed his eyes and tried valiantly not to think. They stayed there long past nightfall, until the air grew chilly and the wind stung too much to stay outside, and if it occurred to Sif that they hadn’t made a bit of progress toward the next step in their plan, she stayed blessedly silent on the matter. Loki bid her goodnight at the palace gates and shifted into a raven, flying up and up and through his open window and into bed. He intercepted snippets of a strange conversation before he shifted back, ominous fleeting thoughts that carried Odin’s touch, but he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow and he remembered nothing of the odd exchange when he woke the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? Told you guys I love Sif. She's my favorite :)
> 
> To my dearest Sigyn: see, you didn't have to worry! No lovebirdiness and no one getting their heart broken. The only angst will be Loki/Thor angst. Because this is only really Loki/Thor. <3
> 
> The reviews for this story have been inspiring like you won't believe. This is the first time I've managed a WIP. I usually start them and never post them because I can't finish. But this story? I've got chapter 5 written (notice the increase in chapter count) and 90% of chapter 6 is there. I'm struggling with the *next* chapter (of course! Isn't that always the way?) but it's going to be finished soon. I can't leave you guys hanging too long, now can I? :) It's been so encouraging to actually write something with a multi-chapter plot and to have you guys enjoy it. So thank you for every comment and kudo! It makes my day! <3


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